Solid Silver
by Nillen
Summary: Mafia!AU. Harry is a normal, average, university student. Well, minus his boyfriend and his cat, of course.


Disclaimer : I don't own Harry Potter and its characters.

This story is edited by : **faded. brilliance. **Thank you so much, baby :3

This is only a fragment of my idea. I don't know where to go with the rest of it yet.

Warning for** Alternate Universe** ( Mafia - Italy, yeah, I know it's weird but yeah. :l ) **OOCness** ( I'm a sucker on this, I killed Harry. And Cedric. Quite horribly. But I do hope Tom is acceptable because he's not evil in this, he's just... sadist, I guess. It's a romance / humour story, I can't help it. I'm so sorry. -cries a river- )

* * *

Harry grew up in Rome, enjoying his life very well until the day his parents died in a tragic accident. His parents left all their wealth – they were quite rich – to him. But living alone in an empty house was not something he could handle. With help from his friends at the university, he sold the house and rented a small apartment with a friend instead.

It was on a very fine autumn day when he first met Tom.

* * *

Harry walked leisurely amidst the crowd of rushing students, wanting to leave the university for the free weekend. His backpack slung over his shoulder and his one hand holding open a novel – an English author to sharpen his mother accent – when he realized he was now out from the university's main gate. He stood there for a minute, contemplating where he wanted to spend the rest of his Friday's evening when he saw a man in a sharp, pristine black suit leaning against the door of his black, sleek car. The man was handsome and tall; perhaps Harry could only reach his shoulders if they were to stand side by side. His body posture was entirely calm and his arms crossed against his chest. Black shades covered his eyes and Harry slowly frowned when he saw a smirk appearing on the stranger's face; a smirk that was clearly directed to him.

'_Never trust a man in suit here._' Harry reminded himself and shook his head. He quickly made a turn to his left and felt his body shiver when the elegant sound of an expensive pair of shoes tip-tapping on the sidewalk followed him right behind.

"Hello there, green eyes."

Harry paled. _British accent_. A _British_ mafia?

"Umm, yes?" he didn't stop walking but slowed down instead. The same man fell into step right beside him.

"I saw that you were looking at me a few seconds ago. Did something cross your mind?" the man asked, lips still curled into that smirk that Harry wanted to vanish with a slap. Harry shook his head and stopped walking, his body rigid as he stared up at the man.

'_God Lord, he is really tall. Or I am just that short.'_

"No, you were just there in my line of sight. It was nice talking to you but I must go." Harry nodded with a forced smile and quickly turned to walk – fast, faster than he ever had – but then the man said something that made him stop.

"_To be fond of dancing was a certain step toward falling in love._"

Harry stopped dead in his tracks and turned back with wide, horrified eyes.

"Seriously?" the man turned the novel in his hand and gave Harry an expression that mirrored his question exactly. Harry felt his face heating up in embarrassment.

"I got it from my friend." He barked and went back to grab his book but the man held it high. Harry cursed in Italian.

"Well, well, a pretty little mouth there," the man chuckled and Harry hissed at him, "but, I would only return this to you with an exchange of a favour."

"You stole my book and you're asking for a favour?" Harry asked incredulously. The man chuckled.

"Oh yes, that's how blackmail works, isn't it?"

Harry wanted to punch his face.

"You caught my eyes, Raven, let's have coffee somewhere." He asked, or rather, if going by his expression, demanded. Harry inwardly rolled his eyes.

"For my book."

'_And my life too, you probably have a gun tucked somewhere in that suit._'

* * *

It turned out that his name is Tom Marvolo Riddle and Harry learned that he loves to drive exceeding the speed limit the hard way.

And that he fished out Harry's name at the back of the 'Pride and Prejudice' novel that belongs to Harry.

* * *

"An English Mafia leader? Harry, are you mad?" Cedric stared at him with wide eyes, his own work ignored on the table and Harry just slammed his own face again on his pillow.

"He's not really English. His mother was Italian. He got it from her." He murmured against the soft material. His housemate walked over to him and sat down on his bed. Harry groaned quietly.

"So you two just had drinks together?" the blond asked again and Harry hesitated for a moment.

* * *

Tom also has a pair of unique red eyes. He used them to scare people off and threaten them.

He used it on Harry too to get his number.

* * *

"_WHAT?!"_

* * *

Tom was probably the most persistent, egoistic, sinister, possessive, sarcastic and many other choice adjectives if Harry was given a chance to describe him. But he knew too much about Harry that it made Harry a little bit suspicious – well, not a little bit, but very much – of him. Their first time going out for drinks together, Tom had automatically labeled as their first date.

It was weird, considering that Harry didn't even tell Tom he is gay but Tom knew his favourite restaurant and his favourite coffee. So on one of their many dates, Harry asked him. Tom made this kind of face that said 'You sound so stupid, Harry' or maybe, 'You're so naïve, like an adorable sheep, I just want to eat you alive now' before he answered.

"I've met you once, before."

"You _what_?"

"Fear not, Harry, I'm not a stalker. Well, not that literally. But," at this Harry rolled his eyes, "I've met you before when you were in high school. I came to visit my mother and it was unintentionally that I saw you in front of your school. I had to return to London at that time, so I couldn't greet you, no matter how adorable you were at that time. Not that you are not now. So I ordered mother's bodyguards to keep track on you. Good thing we met each other instead of me meeting you again when I finally moved here."

"… Tom, you are one creepy stalker."

"This creepy stalker thinks you are hot; even with your untamable hair, your old, classic glasses and preference on corny, sappy and sentimental romantic novels."

"We live in Italy, I need to sharpen my English."

"Go on with the excuses, Harry, don't think I don't know you keep your Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami just beside your pillow on your bed."

"You put cameras in my room?!"

* * *

That was very much Tom. But really, sometimes Harry just can't get enough of him.

He was busy most of the time. But he sent messages and gave short calls once in every few hours, sent picture messages of sky and buildings when he was out of the country. And Harry hated to admit it but he loves the way Tom kisses. Tom has the tendency of trapping Harry against the wall, the floor or anywhere he likes. Eskimo kisses were the ones Harry got before Tom kissed him on his lips; first persistent and hungry, later; soft, gentle and many sweet pecks in between.

Because Harry was short and only reached his shoulders, he tends to manhandle Harry into whatever positions that he loves. And Tom also gave him almost everything that he needed.

He once said he was hungry to Tom over the phone when the man was away for some mafia business he refused to reveal and one minute later someone knocked on his apartment's door bringing his favourite food for him. _Boss ordered to give you this, Mr. Potter_, the delivery man in black suit and black glasses had said.

Harry had paled, accepting the food with trembling hands before he muttered a quick thank you and slammed the door shut. He later called Tom again and shouted at him for being a mean, stupid demanding boss rather than sending a mafia to his apartment.

Maybe actually Harry wanted to be mad for the latter reason but in his head, Tom wasn't supposed to order people around for trivial reasons.

And Harry was grateful Cedric wasn't home at that time.

Harry bets the medical student sleeps in the mortuary most of the nights anyway.

* * *

If anyone were ever to ask Harry what was one of the weirdest – and sweetest – things that Tom had ever did to him, Harry would tell them about this one particular night when a huge step took place in their relationship.

Once upon a night, after they had dinner together in an expensive Chinese restaurant, Tom had walked him back to his shared apartment with Cedric.

("When I said Chinese, it's not a bloody five stars restaurant that one plate of kimchi would cost more than my bloody one year expense!" the only thing that differentiated Harry from a 5 year-old was that he didn't stomp his feet. Tom had rolled his eyes at him while at the same time maintaining his bored expression.

"Kimchi is a Korean dish."

"What? No, it's not… Tom! That's hardly my point!"

"Kimchi is a Korean dish." Tom had repeated solemnly with his 'I can't believe you're so retarded you can't even differentiate a Korean dish and a Chinese dish' face and the rest of argument that Harry wanted to spit at his face was interrupted by a Chinese waiter, who came to lead them to their table from their waiting line.)

Even though the distance between the restaurant and his place was quite far, Harry found it adorable when Tom refused to take his awaiting car and chose to walk with Harry instead. It was clear he did so to have much more time to waste with Harry but he said he did so because he was sure that Harry might get kidnapped. Because Harry was sure to get into a white van if the man driving it offered him candy. Harry contemplated between hitting Tom or not, in the end he chose the latter.

It's not that Harry's scared, he's just aware of the fact when he hit Tom, he might hit a gun, or knives, or bombs that Tom hides in the folds of his black, expensive trench coat.

So he's not scared. Nope, not at all.

Harry didn't know what happened during their walk but in the middle of it, Harry had told Tom a funny story of how he met Cedric and how his professor complimented his project paper, and then Tom told him how he tortured a Japanese man who refused to give him the location of an important document, how he just bought a new Pardini GT45 gun ("I couldn't stop caressing it two hours after I bought it," Tom stated with a sadistic glint in his eyes that were just too bright to be ignored), and how his cat refused to eat tinned tuna anymore.

Harry had might or might not, trembled so badly at the end of it. It seems that Tom's cat was so picky Tom had to buy another kind of cat food for him, Harry paled.

But never mind that, because when they finally reached Harry's apartment building, they were kissing furiously against the main door. It was a cheap, creepy and disgusting building (as Tom said) so there was no doorman guarding it. Harry thanked whatever Gods up above when no one actually saw them making out like two desperate teenagers. Harry had his back against the door, Tom trapping him and his hands gripping Harry's hips tight to mesh against his. Harry had to pull back to breathe, and Tom didn't waste time to leave marks on his neck. With the pace that they were going on, Harry wasn't sure that he might still have his V-card by the end of the year.

"T-Tom," Harry gasped, gripping his lover's hair tight and Tom growled against his neck. Harry whimpered, forcefully pulled him away from his neck and Tom's red eyes glared at his green for stopping.

"I… I need to get back. I promise Cedric we'll watch a movie together tonight." Harry quietly whispered as he gasped for breath. Tom raised an eyebrow before kissing him again. The time he pulled away again, Tom's familiar smirk was back on his face.

"The Notebook?"

"What the- Tom! What had I told you about privacy?!" Harry exclaimed with a flushed face. He poked the taller man on his chest and glared up at him. Tom just looked down at him before slapping his hand away, not nastily.

"I refuse to follow your wish. Anyway, good night, Harry. I'll see you soon?" Tom smiled a little, the kind of smile that Harry thought only he was privileged to see and inwardly, it made him melt with happiness.

"Okay. Good night, Tom." Harry smiled almost dreamily and quickly turned to get into the building before he changed his mind and dump Cedric for Tom.

When he finally reached his apartment on level 4, he unlocked the door and switched on the light. He turned to call for Cedric when the sight that greeted his eyes almost sent him down on his knees. After he stood frozen, wide eyed for more than a minute upon the door, he quickly screamed for Cedric, at the same time taking out his cellphone.

It rang not more than two times before Tom answered.

"Hello-"

"Tom, someone broke into my house!"

"Okay, I'll be up now."

Harry should have been aware of how calm Tom was when he responded to him but he was too busy being on the verge of tears while he checked on his missing belongings. His cd collections were gone, as well as his favourite lounge chair, his books, his standing lamp, his-

"Wait a minute." Harry stopped abruptly, staring at the half empty living room and a second later, his brain shouted at him to kill anyone. Or someone in particular.

Tom bloody Riddle.

"_YOU_!" Harry turned to look at the open door just to see Tom standing there, looking smug as if he just won a big lottery.

"What's happening? Why are you shouting?" Cedric walked out from his room, interrupting the chain of creative cusses that Harry was about to throw at his boyfriend's face. The blond stared at them and then at the living room, seemingly just woken up from sleep. Harry turned to him instead and pointed a finger at his face.

"Cedric, why in hell aren't you awake when someone broke into our house?" Harry might or might not have screamed like a bloody woman, high pitched and all, his face red with rage.

It seemed that ever since he met Tom, every (foolish) action he took was so uncertain and blurred.

Cedric looked at him unimpressed, as how a tired, close-to-death medical student would look like after one week of nonstop lab work.

"Well, I'm sorry I'm so tired that I dropped dead to sleep once I got home. I don't have a rich boyfriend to take me out to a great sauna and expensive massage when I'm tired." Cedric shot back, almost scandalized by the tone of his voice. Harry's mouth dropped open at the sarcasm and he whipped his head to look at Tom when he heard the man chuckle next to him.

"What are you laughing about?! You did this!" Harry resisted the urge to strangle him to death right away.

"Calm down, Harry, and hear me out." Tom calmly stated. Harry huffed but obeyed nevertheless. Cedric behind them already walked back into his room, probably to get some more sleep.

"I want to ask you to move in with me."

"Move in? As in- _what_? You can't- Cedric has to pay more if I-"

"Rest assured, I've dealt with that. I've talked to Diggory and he accepted it as long as I deal with your part of the rent."

"Traitor." Harry muttered under his breath.

"So I paid men to take out your belongings and put them into my place while we're having dinner."

Harry stared at him long and hard, wondering if all the walking and talking were just to buy them time for Tom to operate his dirty mission. But the most important thing that kept playing in his mind now was this.

"You do know that asking should come first before moving my stuff?"

Tom chuckled.

"I know. Moving your things first will make you harder to say no."

Harry blinked, looking at his lover for a moment. Tom's small smile had a hint of reluctant, if Harry ever dared to say it, _fear_, while he continued to stare back at Harry. Harry didn't think this was something that Tom always does. Even though he never said anything to Harry about his previous relationships, Harry didn't think he ever had any that was serious enough for Tom to do this. And there was something inside of Harry that said that he would destroy whatever this is, between both of them now, if he refused to move in with Tom.

And actually, it was kind of sweet, in a very frustrating, infuriating way of Tom to ask him to move in with him.

A smile slowly widens on Harry's face as he reached out a hand to pull Tom down by his neck. He hugged the older man tight and Tom was stiff for a second before he completely wrapped Harry inside his arms.

"Of course I'll move in with you, Tom. What kind of a silly question is that?" Harry laughed. He felt Tom slump a little on him, a relieved sigh vibrating in his chest, which Harry felt against his own chest. Harry just smiled at the knowledge without pointing it out to Tom, instead happily hugging Tom tighter.

* * *

And of course when Harry, for the first time walked into Tom's house (it's a bloody penthouse, for God's bloody sake!), he was at loss of words for a few minutes and Tom, who was behind him, muttered a mocking 'Hallelujah' for finally having Harry shut up by himself.

* * *

So when it was Harry's graduation day, he finally informed Tom about his dream job. Tom didn't seem to care much as long as Harry has nothing to do with his career and that made Harry felt very excited about it.

"I want to be a kindergarten teacher."

And Tom practically howled before demanding him to join the mafia.

So that's how the story started.

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* * *

A/N : I can't say much, my author's block been killing me since last year. So thank you for reading this.

And review please. :)


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